


Predictable

by DallonWho



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 06:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13334952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DallonWho/pseuds/DallonWho
Summary: He remembers a time when it wasn’t like this. When their brains were too tired, their bodies too thin, the weight on their shoulders too heavy.He much prefers this.





	Predictable

“Here,” a voice above him says, and he doesn’t need to open his eyes to i.d. the owner. Cold condensation touches his hand against the armrest of the chair and he turns his hand over to take the bottle.

“Thanks.” He says simply. The cap is already off and his eyes stay closed underneath his shades as he takes a sip of the cold beer. He hears weight sink into the chair beside him; hears an exhale of contentment.

Barking sounds fill the air, and Ryan opens his eyes to watch the dogs run around the yard. Elwood’s head lifts off his paws from where he’s lying next to Ryan to look at the smaller dogs run around the yard as well. His head lowers again once he sees the barks are that of fun and not fear, and Ryan rubs his head with his free hand.

Saturday afternoons are his favorite.

A sigh comes from the chair next to him, and Ryan lolls his head to the side to look at Brendon. “Something to say, peanut gallery?” He quirks an eyebrow as he pushes his shades up to his hair line, and a lazy smile spreads across Brendon’s face as his own head turns to face Ryan.

“I think,” He starts, but then pauses to sip his own drink. “I think Saturday afternoons are my favorite.” Brendon laughs, but it’s soft. The smile stays on his face, and Ryan feels himself copying it subconsciously.

He remembers a time when it wasn’t like this. When their brains were too tired, their bodies too thin, the weight on their shoulders too heavy. He much prefers this.

Ryan rests his bottle on the ground next to his chair and heaves himself too his feet. By the time he makes his way to his boyfriend’s chair, Brendon is sitting up and making room for Ryan in his lap. The grin on his face remains.

“The years have made me predictable.” He quips, sitting in Brendon’s lap and leaning back when arms wrap around his waist.

A warm nose presses to his shoulder. “I like predictable.” Brendon mumbles. “I like that I know every Saturday a fleet of animals is going to jump up onto the bed and step on my organs. I like that I know you’re going to pretend to still be asleep even though I know you wake up before me every day and I know you help Penny up onto the bed.” Ryan laughs gently, and Brendon copies him.

Brendon tugs gently at Ryan’s shirt so that he’ll look down at him, and he pushes his sunglasses up to look at him. “I like predictable.” He continues, sincerity leaking into every word. “I like that you’re predictable.”

The dogs bark again and this time Elwood gets up and goes to join them. Ryan sinks between Brendon’s legs, rests his back against Brendon’s chest, and pushes his sunglasses back down. He feels a kiss press to the back of his head, and he smiles as the dogs jump in the pool and water splashes their legs.

They’ll dry off the dogs and finish off their beers. They’ll wander back into the house with skin warm and fuzzy from the sun and the alcohol. They’ll play music just loud enough to hear and share cigarettes as the sun sets.

They’re predictable, and that’s fine by them.


End file.
